


prohibition and other legalities

by Engineer104



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Soooort of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Annette is really, truly grateful to Felix for taking care of a rude speakeasy customer for her.Unfortunately his fit of gallantry could get her fired.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	prohibition and other legalities

**Author's Note:**

> one more super old one-shot! this AU has its origins on a scrap of paper from my student teaching days ;_;
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

After the smoke-filled, dusky interior of the speakeasy, the cool nighttime air of the alley washes over Annette like she just dove into a river. Her body still trembles, working out the adrenaline that filled her in the moment while the customer, spitting angry and drenched in every liquor _The Lion_ _’s Den_ boasts of selling, shouted profanities and threats at her before Felix yanked him away by the collar.

She leans against the cool bricks of the hideout, hand curled into a fist over her racing heart, and takes a long, shuddering breath, a better drag than any cigarette can give.

And then, once her shaking stills and her heartbeat steadies and her body unwinds, the bad thoughts creep in.

Not only did she spill the contents of her tray on one of their best and most powerful customers, but she got him kicked out in the middle of Dorothea’s performance!

Annette knows, logically, that the Professor won’t hold it against her, not _really_ , but if the customer threatens to sell out _The Lion_ _’s Den_ \- or worse - she’ll have no choice but to let their clumsiest waitress and wannabe amateur lounge singer go. And then where will Annette be? Trapped in Fhirdiad, chasing leads that only take her to more dead ends, without a means to pay the rent because no one in the city wants to hire a woman for anything other than waitressing or performing or nursing or—

A door slams shut further down the alley, and Annette stiffens, instantly on her guard. Her hand flies to the little switchblade she keeps tucked in her belt as the footsteps approach, only for the shadows to resolve and for Felix to step into the dim lamplight.

Annette can think of a hundred things to say to or ask him. She can thank him for intervening during the customer’s vitriolic rant, she can ask why he didn’t just turn a blind eye since this was one they couldn’t afford to offend, or she can even wonder why he didn’t simply warn the customer rather than skip straight to booting him from _The Lion_ _’s Den_.

Instead she blurts, “I’m going to get fired thanks to you!”

Felix pauses a few paces away from her, and it’s dark enough she can’t make out the expression on his face. “What?”

“And stop sneaking up on me!” she exclaims, crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders. “I could’ve stabbed you and not realized.”

“With that tiny thing you carry in your belt?” He scoffs, which just irritates her more. “I’d like to see you try.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t tempt me,” she says. “At least in jail they’d feed me.” Not like she can think about food with her stomach flipping so…so terribly.

Felix sighs. He leans against the wall beside her, his hands deep in his pockets and his presence more welcome than she wants to admit. Yet she finds herself unwinding just a little, just enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

Her anger fades; in its place her stomach knots with dread, and the cool air isn’t nearly as refreshing anymore.

She half-expects Felix to shift away from her, and to take the welcome warmth he radiates with him, but though he stiffens when her head falls against him, he doesn’t move. Her breath sticks in her lungs when his arm wraps around her back, and his hand rests loosely on her waist and nudges her closer.

“You won’t get fired,” Felix says then.

“How do you know?” Annette retorts. She swallows around the lump stuck in her throat, but at least her voice and breathing hold steady. “Did you see who I spilled my tray on? He can report—”

“He’s a bastard,” he cuts her off, “but I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore.”

She turns her head, hoping he won’t see the heat rising to her face. “That’s, um, that’s very kind of you, Felix,” she says, “but even if you come from money, I doubt you can do much about it.”

“Well, money has its uses,” Felix muses, sounding almost thoughtful; it’s a direct contrast to how he’s criticized other, lesser men for the way they spend their cash, as if it makes up for their deficiencies. “I wasn’t really talking about money though.”

“What else are you going to do then, throw your name around?” Annette snorts, not particularly amused, because she knows how he feels about that too.

“I might,” he says, “if he thinks he can try anything.”

She feels more than sees his hand curling into a fist, as if he’s imagining driving it through the quarrelsome customer’s face rather than stopping at grabbing his collar and carting him away. She wouldn’t be surprised - he’s always seemed so…volatile, as if his temper can snap at a moment’s notice and Sothis protect the one who incites his wrath - yet…she can’t bring herself to be afraid or indignant by it either.

Annette loops her arm through his, and though a smile prods at her lips, her confusion won’t let her relax. “Why?” she asks.

“Why what?” His breath brushes her forehead when he turns his head, and it takes all her self-control to suppress a shiver.

“Stepping in when someone’s…yelling at me is one thing,” she explains with a frown she directs at the opposite wall, “but making sure I won’t get fired when it doesn’t even involve fighting?” She raises her head at last and meets his amber eyes that shine in the light of the street lamp. “Why would you do that for me?”

For some reason the wait for the answer makes Annette’s heart race like it did when she fled the lounge in a panic, and it only pounds faster, fighting to escape her ribcage, when Felix tears his gaze away from her face to examine the opposite wall as if he finds it more fascinating.

He makes a sound halfway between a scoff and a snort, and if Annette doesn’t know any better she would think his cheeks color. “Why do you think?” he asks.

Annette crosses her arms, unable to help pouting. “That’s why I asked you,” she grumbles. “I wasn’t exactly born able to read minds, and I have yet to learn.”

Felix glances sideways at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. His whole body turns to face her, and he straightens so he no longer leans against the wall. “I just, um…”

She blinks, surprise making her slow-witted, though she mirrors his posture. She’s never seen him so hesitant, so unsure, and it makes her chest tighten with concern. She rests a hand on his arm and asks, “Felix, are you—”

The words die in her throat - in a humiliating squeak - when his lips press roughly against hers. Her back collides with the wall behind her, her cloche hat slipping from her head, and her fists find his pristine suit jacket and shove him away.

Annette stares up at him with wide eyes, her heart pounding a syncopated beat she can only dream of matching while singing jazz, her face so hot it must be glowing in the dark.

Felix scrubs a hand over his face and says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Her fingers bunch in his nice silk tie before she yanks him back down.

Annette thinks it’s unsporting of him when he stiffens at first touch, but then she can’t help the tremor that runs up her spine when he melts into her. His fingers tangle in her hair, tipping her head backwards, and he kisses her with a tenacity that leaves her lightheaded.

He tastes like the whiskey she served him earlier in the evening, before everything went wrong - before everything went right. And her mind quiets, her worries and fears washing away like rain washing the pavement, until she only thinks of Felix, of him lurking in the dark corners in _The Lion_ _’s Den_ , of how she once caught him eavesdropping on her impromptu rehearsal after closing, of his face bruised and his arm in a sling under his suit jacket yet how he still sat close to the stage on her first (and last) night performing.

Of the sharp, pointed anger in his gaze when it fell on the customer yelling at her.

Her arms settle around his neck as she tugs him closer, and the discomfort of the bricks digging into her back through the thin, shimmery fabric of her dress pale to her need to sink into his warmth. His arm wraps around her waist to pull her against him and just enough off the wall it’s a relief.

But then Felix pulls back, his breath uneven and hot on her forehead, and when her eyes flutter open he stares down at her, his face as dark as hers must be. He cups her jaw, and Annette can’t help leaning into his touch.

“I don’t know…what I was thinking,” he says in a low, almost breathless voice.

“D-do you ever?” she retorts. When he scowls at her, she giggles and presses the tip of her thumb into the little wrinkle on his forehead until his expression evens out. “I’m sorry, I just…I can barely remember why I was so worried now.” She slides her hands over his shoulders and down to his chest before leaning into him, her forehead resting right over his own racing heart.

Felix wraps his arms around her, holding her close as any lingering tension oozes out of him. One of his hands braces her head against him, and his cheek presses against the top of her head. “You won’t have a reason to be,” he promises, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly.

His words, somehow, reassure Annette more than his kiss.

An automobile rumbles along the street beyond the close, confined shelter of the alleyway, splashing through puddles from an early evening rainfall, and reminding her of a city that exists beyond the fold of Felix’s arms. A sigh escapes her as regret tugs at her chest, and she mumbles, “I should get back to work.”

“Are you, um, performing tonight?” he wonders in a nonchalant tone that still betrays some interest.

A smile pulls at her lips but she admits, “No. After the first time, the Professor and Dorothea both agreed I wasn’t ready for a crowd.” She starts to pull away from Felix, only for him to hold her fast.

“Then they can all wait a little longer for their drinks,” he says.

Annette lifts her head to offer some paltry protest, but the slightest hint of a smile on his lips makes any argument die away and fills her with a fresh wave of heat. “Fine,” she agrees, “but if they get mad at me, you have to vouch for me.”

“Done.” And this time when he kisses her she’s waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> in my original idea, Felix actually _was_ the bouncer but alas, he had to wear a tie so Annette could yank on it
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
